


Not Shy

by grootiswhatweaim4



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Awkwardness, Domestic, Funny, No Sex, Nudity, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:24:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2262714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grootiswhatweaim4/pseuds/grootiswhatweaim4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Awkward shower time for our Guardians. Peter is confused, Gamora is relaxed, Drax is way too nonchalant and Rocket is pissed off (and Groot is just Groot) Non-sexy shower times, team bonding, a day in the life for these glorious losers. </p>
<p>Violent threats and mentions of genitals but apart from that very PG, enjoy xx</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another day in paradise

The new and improved Milano had been one serious perk to saving the galaxy. Sure, the insurmountable glory was pretty great and all but Nova Core’s little gift of thanks just put the cherry on top of a crime-pardoning sundae. Peter Quill knew it was as close as he was going to get to his baby, and despite slight feelings of guilt, he couldn’t help but enjoy life travelling through space far more on the new craft. Whether or not due to the fact at was over 30% bigger than the bachelor pad style Milano original or the fact he had a proper team to fill this one, he wasn’t sure.  
Each team member now had their own private quarters (except for Groot, who always slept in Rocket’s room) which were modest, but comfortable. Even Drax’s huge mass seemed to manage to fit well in the rooms. There were two communal spaces, one just behind the cockpit, another on a lower level which were sparsely furnished and resembled his old ship closely enough. The only weird thing, Peter noticed, was the insanely large bathroom. Like, even for a proper house, it would have been luxurious, though the fittings were as simple as they come. Quill thought nothing of it, and just concluded he could practice his dance moves, albeit carefully, when he sang in the shower. 

Rocket had spent the entire day day underneath the ship, dismantling and discovering the engine capabilities. “Without no parts theres not too much I can fix. But as soon as I can get me a couple of parts and a decent calibrator, I can get started.” he rambled, rubbing a cloth over his face and arms that were smeared with oil. “Ah, FLARK it,” the little man cursed, throwing the rag on the ground in anger, trying to stop the oil from getting stuck in his fur. “  
They were all gathered in the main communal room near the cockpit, Groot was happily basking under a sunlamp set up for him on a bench so he could still see the action. Gamora was running through the Milano’s supplies and Drax was alternating between sharpening his weapons and adding things to the conversation. Quill was trying to appeal to Rocket’s better nature - poorly. “Stop scheming about taking apart my baby, she’s perfect the way she is.” he groused. Gamora almost rolled her eyes, but didn’t alter her flipping through lists on a screen.  
“Calm down, Star-Prince, it doesn’t need gutting, but this thing is way too pedestrian for me. I’ll give it some grunt as soon as we’re at a port.” Rocket replied, a mischievous grin, flashing his sharp teeth. Peter just frowned back at him.  
“When are we due to reach a port? I should think we would need to prepare for the coming months.” Drax interjected, looking at Gamora. The two had become infinitely more friendly since the fall of Ronan. Drax, in his logic, no longer saw Gamora as a player in Ronan’s or even Thanos’ schemes. He was as polite with her as he was when he was asked to babysit little Groot when Rocket was working in the gallows.  
“There’s a open bay booked for us at Dracolis Port, we’ll reach it in under three hours. We’ll need to restock on water and food before anything. We’re down to our last 100 litres.”  
“Maybe cause some namby-pamby humie needs a shower every damn day.” Rocket jabbed, any real aggression in his voice coloured over by amusement. Quill didn’t think he’d ever seen Rocket so friendly. It was this alone that stopped him from making an unsavoury comment back.  
“This is good, I wish to purchase adornments for my chambers.” Drax said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair, his hulking body at ease.  
Quill’s eyebrows raised, “Bit of interior decorating, there Drax?” he asked, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.  
“I’m Groot” the sapling squeaked from his position, looking at Rocket hopefully.  
“No we can’t paint ours - I’m not turning it into some kind of nursery.” Rocket chided  
“Groooo…”  
“Fine, you can have ONE decoration.” the Raccoon conceded. The little sapling let out a high pitched hum of joy.  
Peter then had a thought. “Groot, once we get you a bigger pot, we should paint it. How’s that sound?” he asked.  
“I am Grooo-oot” squealed the flora callosus. He then scrunched up his eyes and a single, tiny yellow flower bloomed atop his head.  
“Hey! Enough of that, you need to focus on getting bigger, don’t waste your energy on stuff like that.” Rocket snapped as Groot waved the small blossom for Peter to take, which he did. 

Hours later they were all separated amongst the port markets, Rocket had heaved Groot along with him to the mechanics with a decent portion of the teams units in search of parts. Gamora and Quill were waiting in line to book the Milano into a refuelling station, Quill getting into a heated discussion with a wrinkled merchant who was trying to sell him some kind of aphrodisiac that Quill knew contained arsenic and would probably kill him. Drax was wandering around a variety of stalls, inspecting everything from hand forged blades to delicate silken lanterns. He also ambled through a number of antique stalls, the owners of which eyed his massive form with extreme apprehension as he waded through framed aisles of delicate potteries, glassware, art and other such things. The phrase a bull in a china shop would have been a perfect phrase (if Drax could understood he was not literally being called a bull).

This is roughly when the drama started. Gamora and Peter almost at the front of the line when Gamora leaned into Peter slightly and urgently whispered. “We’re being watched.”  
Quill, being an idiot, whipped his head around and spotted a group of armor clad Kree rebels who, now realising that their cover had been blown, charged towards the two. Fan-fucking-tastic, thought Quill.  
“Get them!” The largest one cried, his blue hands reaching for a gun.  
Gamora and Peter, aware they were in a crowded port full of civilians, ran for it. They were heading towards the wooded area beyond the main port, where there was a few more industrial looking warehouses. 

Rocket was tail deep in a pile of discounted parts when he heard the gunfire. Ears flattening, he dropped the part and reached for his gun, stepping in front of Groot.  
The plant in question made a small ‘ahh’ noise.  
“How the hell should I know where they are?” Rocket answered before watching Gamora and Peter positively sprinting down the road, not even noticing Rocket standing in the doorway of the shop he was in. Rocket took that opportunity to spring out from the frame and blast whoever the hell was chasing his teammates.  
Drax wasn’t too far away and, on hearing the commotion, took to the battle without even realising the guys with guns were hunting his friends. When the Guardians all finally were together they huddled behind a older building on the very cusp on the forest.  
“What the flark is all that about?” Rocket asked, reloading his weapon from a spare cartridge. Peter was now holding Groot’s pot.  
“Ronan supporters recognised us-”  
“I will detatch their limbs from their torso!” Yelled Drax, ignoring Gamora hushing him.  
“If we head back through that market, people are going to get hurt.” Peter said seriously. “We should be able to lose them through the woods here.”

They all took off running, planning on swooping around to the east to get back to the port in case they needed a quick getaway. They didn’t need it though, as apparently ten Kree wannabe thugs were no real match against the the likes of the Guardians of the Galaxy, even when one of it’s members was baby-sized.  
There was a downside, though. The forest was littered with huge, bulbous plants. They were onion like in shape, except they looked soft and they each seemed to be leaking something from the tip. The fact they were about five feet tall was also an interesting characteristic. Groot, from Peter’s grip, was watching them, fascinated. He called out to Rocket. If it weren’t for his keen hearing, the weapons expert wouldn’t have heard the tiny yell over the din of the battle.  
“What! You’re telling me this now?” Rocket screamed after a round of bullets he just sprayed. “Guys! Groot says not to touch these fat plants - they’ll burst and cover us with sap!”  
Gamora had just leapt on one attacker who had been advancing in Quill’s blindspot. Peter, whipped around to Rocket “What the f-?”  
Then a stray bullet, shot by some “shit for brains Kree idiot who cannot aim for his life” as Rocket would refer to him later, flew past Rocket by a good two feet and ended up hitting an enormous pulsating plant that promptly managed to spew an acrid smelling sap over the entire mele. Rocket was almost drowned in it, Drax pulling him out as they ran for cover. They were able to use the distraction to get away, Rocket bellowing curses at the top of his lungs.


	2. Too close for comfort?

To Quill’s chagrin, the group couldn’t help but track the muck all through the ship as they returned from the market, not a single purchase amongst them, but all of them covered in the ooze. Rocket, being furry, was easily the worst off, already digging his claws between his gums and ears to remove the stubborn mess from his person. Groot was the only one of the group who wasn’t fazed by the sap, but the action and gunfire had left him tired and he was happy to be put underneath his sunlamp by Gamora. They all had dark, murderous expressions on their faces.   
As soon as Groot was settled, Rocket began stripping off his suit, managing to wipe green crap all over his portion of the floor. “Gonna go get this son-of-a-bitch crap outta my flarkin fur…” he fumed to no one in particular, heading towards the shower.   
“Not so fast,” Gamora interrupted, walking between the group at the hallway to the bathroom.   
“You what?” Rocket snapped back impatiently.   
“We haven’t been able to restock the water yet.” She said, her deep voice mimicking her ‘do not fuck with me’ body language. “We don’t have 100 L left. Not enough for three showers, and we still need to wash our clothes and drink.”   
“Well, d’ast you guys, because this stuff is toxic and I’m getting in that shower whether you like it or not.” Rocket countered aggressively.   
“You will take the longest to remove it all,” Drax argued.  
“And?”  
“Guys, seriously, we need all just need to take 30 second showers, or buddy up, or something because - as much as it pains me to say it - Rocket it right, this crap is starting to sting.” Peter interjected, using his most authoritative voice.   
“A most logical solution, Quill. The shower is big enough for all of us, and we shall save water in the process.” Drax agreed in total seriousness.   
“Ugh!” cried Rocket “Fine! But anyone step on my tail they’re getting flarking castrated.” the Racoon marched towards the shower.   
Peter blinked. “Woah, woah guys, that was more of a crazy idea than a suggestion. I mean, Gamora, you’re gonna need a seperate shower at least and-”  
Gamora silenced him with a look “I am not waiting for you all to finish so that I may run out of water during my time and remain covered in this mire.”   
“Well, ladies first of course, -”  
“I don’t think so!” Cried Rocket who was already around the corner.  
“It shall prove an excellent bonding experience if nothing else,” Drax said, smiling and starting towards the shower himself.   
Peter watched Gamora trail the giant and had to actually take a few seconds to comprehend what was happening. He knew the team were close but this was verging on the realms of batshit insane. When he heard the water start, Peter realised how gross he felt; wet and sticky and cold, covered in faintly poisonous sap. He inhaled deeply to steady himself and then quickly made his way to the bathroom. 

There were two shower heads at either corners of the open shower. The streams usually met in the middle, but both had been angled down. So two people would share one jet of water. When Quill walked in, Drax was already under the spray, using soap to lather his face and bald head. Rocket was drenched as well, fiddling with a shampoo bottle and scrubbing at his stomach and legs. Gamora was removing the last of her clothes before she stepped in and eked herself some space next to Rocket, dousing her own hair and face with warm water. Her back was to him, but Peter was finding this bizarre. He had never considered himself particularly shy when it came to nudity, his six pack was quite a source of pride, but the three fully naked Guardians in the shower was enough to make him pause.   
“Peter, we’ve got 9 minutes remaining until the water is being turned off, are you coming in or not?” Gamora asked, turning round slightly, her hands working furiously at her scalp where she had applied some of the shampoo. Peter caught a glimpse of her breast before she turned back around and found his face blossoming red. He began stripping quickly and headed over to the jet of water that housed only Drax.   
The Maniac moved over slightly to accommodate Quill and passed him the soap nonchalantly as he began cleaning his -   
Oh, shit, okay, Quill thought, snapping his eyes to the tiles in front of him and began to scrub himself down. The water was beautifully warm and he was almost acclimatising to the situation (closing his eyes and pretending he was alone as he lathered the soap through his hair helped) when Drax spoke. “Rocket, you still have some of the mess on your back, would you care for some assistance?” Peter trying to finish as quickly as possible as he couldn’t imagine Rocket was going to take that very well.  
“You just take care of yer own damn business,” Rocket growled. Gamora let out an irritated sigh.   
“Peter,” she asked, “Are you done with the soap?”   
“What?” he turned and needed every ounce of control to look Gamora in the EYES lest he get punched, or worse.   
“Yep,” he replied a little too quickly and he thought he heard Rocket scoff from somewhere around his knees.   
Peter turned back around after watching Gamora crouch delicately to scrub herself from the feet upwards.   
“I don’t know about you guys, but this is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever done.” Peter said in the silence, finally starting to feel clean.   
“Communal bathing is not common where you come from?” Drax asked casually, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck under the steady flow of hot water.   
“Well, not on Earth, unless everyone got really liberal since I left. But the ravagers didn’t really do it. To be honest I think a lot of them just didn’t bathe altogether.” he smirked.   
“Well when you go to prison as much as a guy like me, being shy about this kind of thing ain’t exactly a priority.” the Raccoon said, sitting on the tiles and threading his claws through his wep mop of a tail.   
“I wouldn’t use the word shy, just weird is all.” Peter garbled through a mouthful of water before spitting it out.   
“Yeah, yeah, humie, even Gamora’s not as bad as you...tho’ she could probably do more damage than the lot of us if we was to try sumthin’.” Rocket said, smirking up at her. Peter couldn’t be sure but it sounded like a genuine compliment coming from Rocket.  
“Indeed,” the assassin mused, but there was little aggression in her words as she was rinsing out her hair, lolling her head from side to side. It was the most relaxed Peter had ever seen her.   
“Gamora is not so temperamental as to attack us if we were to do ‘something’, that is an unjust accusation.” Drax said, looking down at Rocket.   
“Forget it…” the Raccoon said not looking up from his tail, still working on it.   
“A metaphor?” Drax asked, his gaze trailing up to Peter.   
“Uhh, more of a euphemism.” Peter said, then noticing Drax’s expression “I’ll...I’ll explain later.” he promised.  
“One minute left.” Gamora announces, pushing wet, clean hair from her face.   
Rocket cursed loudly “Gamora, get down here and get the shit between my shoulder blades and so help me if you touch anything other than fur…”   
Gamora crouched again, using two fingers to scrub the area silently, adding soap. Peter was too distracted by making sure all his own nooks and crannies were sufficiently sap-free before the shower ended.   
Gamora was the one to turn the taps off, then stepped out of the enormous shower cubicle and wrapped herself in a towel. The immediate lack of hot water sent chills through Peter and he was eager to get a towel of his own. 

 

After they had dressed and shoved their clothes into the washing machine, they each had retired to their rooms. Peter was still a little in shock and when he was alone in his room had little doubt that Gamora’s gorgeous green frame would permeate his dreams tonight.   
He almost felt guilty about it, actually, the other three seemed totally oblivious to the inappropriate nature of what they just did.   
It boggled Peter that none of them seemed to mind at all! If Rocket was used to it from prison, that makes sense, plus he’s got all that fur anyway, Peter mused. Could Rocket even be attracted to the rest of team, if he were so inclined? Or would be want another raccoon? Probably not. Maybe he was asexual. That would be easiest for him at least, not having to worry about getting his furry-ass laid as well as everything else.   
Drax was clearly just came from a culture where that kind of shit was normal, he was the most relaxed about it at least. Communal bathing was probably a way of celebrating a victorious battle on his home planet. Then again - Peter admitted grudgingly - if he were as muscular and, uh, ‘well equipped’ as Drax he’d actively seek out opportunities to get naked.   
Gamora’s ease at getting naked in the company of three guys - one of whom she had nearly kissed no less! - was verging on the unsettling. He knew she probably didn’t feel threatened by them, as they all knew how easily she could take them down with each of very, very vulnerable to her attacks   
Peter’s mind drifted to the memory of watching her enter the shower, then quickly cleared his throat and shook his head. Probably not a good time to think those kind of things. It was nearly dinner time and he was utterly starving, not having eaten since breakfast. 

Drax had found some nutrition bars and grilled some frozen, freeze-dried whatever. None of them were eager to go back to the market for a decent feed - something Peter usually looked forward to after days or weeks of Milano-prepared meals. Groot was awake, and being wiped down with with a wet cloth by Rocket. “I am Groot,” he complained.  
“I don’t care if it isn’t toxic to you, beanpole, it’s gross and it stinks so don’t fidget.” Rocket said, pulling the pot slightly closer to allow himself better access.   
Gamora was using the intercom to book another night in the port and the first refuelling of the day tomorrow. Hopefully by this time tomorrow the Milano would be brimming with enough food and water to keep them satiated for weeks. 

And with that being said, Peter thought, in totally separate showers.


End file.
